The Martyrs
by happyhooligan2001
Summary: A small Al Quaida cell plans a series of terrorist bombings across the South starting in the town of Trinity. Perhaps they should have picked a different town.
1. Chapter 1

**The Martyrs**

**Chapter One**

**Friends Forever**

**Prologue**

**1991**

* * *

The wind blew through Husam's hair as he drove down the highway, he loved driving his Mustang with the top down. The forests and fields of South Carolina were so different from the stark deserts of his homeland. There was just so much green it was a bit overwhelming. Even the way it smelled after a spring rain was wonderful. As a student at the University of South Carolina he spent so much of his time indoors studying. It was nice to leave the campus behind for a nice weekend just driving the back roads and seeing the rest of the state.

Husam slowed down an pulled over as he approached an old fashioned iron trussed bridge. He loved the sound of flowing water. This seemed a good opportunity to take a nice relaxing hike along the creek.

Husam walked along next to the stream with his hands in his pockets listening to the sound of the water and the birds. It was a wonderful day and he was enjoying himself immensely. Up ahead he began to make out the shouts of children playing and he smiled to himself. As he got closer he started to make out the words that the children were shouting and his smile faded.

"Crazy Myrlyn! Crazy Myrlyn!"

"You stay away from my sister! Oww! Oww! Leave her alone!"

These children weren't playing. Husam started to run toward the shouts. It was slow going through the woods. The ground was rough and the tree roots kept snagging at his heard a girl wail in pain and terror accompanied by cruel laughter."

"Get away from her! Leave her alone!"

"Crazy Myrlyn! Get the crazy girl!"

Ahead, through the woods, he saw a girl with dark brown hair who looked to be about twelve huddled on the ground. Next to her was a small boy with a crew cut who looked like he was no older than six. Surrounding them were three older boys taunting them. The youngster ran up to one of them who pushed him down into the mud while the other two ran up to kick the screaming girl. The young boy got up and ran toward the two who backed away laughing. They bent down to pick up rocks. The boy was outnumbered three to one and he was only about half the size of the smallest bully. He couldn't possibly have defeated any of them. Husam came up to a barbed wire fence and climbed over it next to the fence post. A barb snagged his polyester pants leg and he yanked it free with a tearing of cloth. Off balance, he fell face first into the mud.

Spitting mud out of his mouth Husam got up. The little boy had apparently figured out that fighting the bullies was a hopeless battle. He was kneeling on the ground holding his sister's head in his lap using his body to shield it from a rain of rocks and bottles. Nobody noticed Husam.

Husam rushed up and grabbed the nearest bully by the scruff of the neck yanking the boy off balance and spinning him around to face him. "Leave you little monsters! Before I crack your heads open!"

Terrified, the three boys ran away into the woods. Hasam turned toward the little boy who was still cradling his older sister's head in his lap. "It's alright little lion, they've gone."

The boy raised is head and looked warely around. His face was dirty and bruised. A trickle of blood flowed from his nose. "It's the Ellis brothers, well, one of them is an Ellis cousin, but the whole family's as mean as wildcats! Even the girls!" He looked up at the older man. "What did you just call me?"

"Little Lion, from the way you bravely defended you sister."

"Someone's at the door," the girl whispered.

The boy's dirty bruised face creased into a smile. "Little Lion! I like that!" He held out his right hand. "My name's Caleb Temple and this is my sister Myrlyn."

"My name is Husam al Shiraz." He took the hand and shook it.

"Who Sam Al Sheer Razz?" The boy's face creased into a grin. "That's a funny name!"

Husam grinned back. "Well I'm a funny guy! But I happen to be from Saudia Arabia."

"You're an ay-rab!" The boy looked around. "Where's your camel? And how come you don't have one of them cloth things on your head?"

Even though Husam never owned a camel he decided to play along. "I left my camel at home. They wouldn't let him on the plane. And while the keffiyeh is good for keeping your head cool in the desert, they look kind of silly in South Carolina."

Caleb nodded and Myrlyn whispered "There's someone at the door."

"Myrlyn's not really crazy, she's just a bit tetched in the head." Caleb helped her up. "And she's getting better every day aren't you Myrlyn?"

"There's someone at the door."

Caleb gave Myrlyn a sad look. "We better get back home. Daddy doesn't think Myrlyn should ever leave the house but she does like it down her by the creek."

Husam took Caleb by the hand. "I'll walk you home."

They walked about a half a mile to a run down old farm house. Caleb stopped. "I'd invite you in for supper and a soda pop but Daddy don't like strangers in the house. He especially don't like ay-rabs not that he's ever seen one."

Husam squatted down. "It's quite alright Little Lion. Just stay brave and protect your sister."

"Wait a minute!" Caleb grabbed Husam's hand then took Myrlyn's hand and clasped them all together. "From now on we're friends forever! This is a thing that can never be broken."

Husam squeezed their hands. "A thing that can never be broken."

Caleb watched Husam walk back down the road the way they came. When he turned around Sheriff Buck was standing right behind him. He wasn't there a minute ago.

Lucas Buck looked down at the two children. Myrlyn gave a heartrending wail and ran for the house. He shook his head. "Son, I think you should be a little more careful about picking your friends."

Caleb glared up at him defiantly. "You ain't my daddy and I can pick my own friends."

Lucas Buck squinted at the man in the distance. "We'll see about that."

Husam's stomach growled as he headed into Trinity. He'll pull over somewhere to find some lunch. Sudenly he saw flashing lights in his review mirror and made a frustrated groan as he pulled over. Now what?

The police man who came out of the unmarked car wore no uniform. Instead he wore a long duster unbuttoned, underneath were a pair of slacks, a vest and a collarless red shirt buttoned up to the throat. His longish brown hair hung over his shirt collar. He strode confidently up to Hasam's Mustang. "Sheriff Lucas Buck, I clocked you going sixty five in a forty mile per hour zone."

"I was driving thirty five!"

"Are you calling me a liar, Ahab?"

"No sir, just stating the truth." Husam reached for his insurance papers.

"Not only that but you've got a broken tail light." Sheriff Buck had suddenly appeared at the rear of the car. How did he get back there so fast?

"It's a new car, I'm sure the tail lights are working."

Sheriff Buck swung his night stick. Husam could hear the shattering of glass. "No it's definitely broken."

"You son of a bitch!" Husam leaped out of the car and ran back to Sheriff Buck. Sheriff Buck caught his fist and and twisted his wrist. Husam howled in pain.

"I'm afraid assaulting an officer is a felony. I'm gonna have to bring you in." He said rather calmly. He twisted Husam's arm around his back and handcuffed him.

Husam was sitting in a jail cell his empty stomach rumbled again. "How long are you going to keep me here?"

"Oh, about a week." Sheriff Buck wandered back there with a plastic tray. "Dinner is served."

"I can't miss a week of classes!" Husam eyed the stack of meat suspiciously. "What is it?"

Sheriff Buck grinned. "Pork chops, just like mama used to make."

"You know I can't eat pork!"

"Some crazy old man in a desert a thousand years ago says you can't eat pork and you ragheads just do what he says without question." Sheriff Buck smirked. "I guess you'll just have to wait for breakfast. It's scrambled eggs with bits of chopped up bacon mixed in. Just the way I like it. I'm sure you can pick out the offending parts."

Husam glared at the arrogant grinning sheriff. His heart was full of hatred and rage. This man was what America really was. This was what America really stood for.


	2. Angel Of Light

**The Martyrs **

**Chapter 2**

**Angel Of Light**

* * *

**1994**

"Hasam, you've lived in America, you know what it's like." Hasam's cousin Ali passed him a skewer of roasted lamb. "It's the wickedest place on Earth! Homosexuals, child molesters, perverts of every kind. They form organizations and publish magazines! Hollywood and their banking system are completely controlled by Jews!" They spread their lies and perversions throughout the world! They feel they have the right to invade or bomb any nation they want! Truly they are the Great Satan!"

Hasam nodded, "True, but there are also good people in America too." He took a bite of the lamb, it was delicious.

"I'm sure there are, but they are trapped in darkness. Even good Muslims who live in America too long eventually get seduced into heresy. Americans need to be brought into the peace and joy that only Islam can give them. America is the solid rock of the West. If it falls the rest of the world will soon follow. We shall finally achieve the worldwide caliphate."

Hasam thought it over. He had never gotten his engineering degree. He blamed it all on the arrogant sheriff in that small town of Trinity. But to join Al Quada was a very big step. He would have to dedicate his entire life to the Jihad. He would probably die very young and very violently but with the guarantee of Paradise. He might have to kill some innocent people but it was all for the greater good. The image of the sneering sheriff's face rose in his memory.

"Yes, Ali, I will go with you. Count me in."

**1996**

Caleb was walking home from school, he took the route by the river because he liked looking at the water. Suddenly a beautiful young girl in white was walking next to him. He gave her a bored glance. The appearance of his sister's ghost was nothing unusual to the boy. "What's up Merlyn?"

"I'm gonna have to leave you for a while, I'm gonna have to leave town for a while, it's very difficult for me to do this, it takes a lot of energy."

"Where're ya goin'?

"I have to go to Africa."

"Africa! Why're you going to Africa, Merlyn?"

Merlyn gave him a somewhat sad look. "Because friends forever is a thing that can never be broken." She then faded from his sight.

**Narobi Kenya**

In his high rise hotel room Hasam peered through his binoculars at the truck. Mohammed had parked it next to the American Embassy and was now wending his way down the sidewalk to where Ali was waiting on his motorbike. This was their first real operation and while they were all willing to martyr themselves for the cause it wasn't necessary this time. As soon as Ali and Mohammed were a safe distance away, he would punch in a certain number in the cell phone he had clutched in his sweaty hand. Another cell phone in the back of the truck would detonate the explosives that they had placed there and with the will of Allah, the American Embassy would be leveled. They couldn't risk a timer with the traffic in Narobi being what it was. He saw many civilians on the sidewalks but if they were good Muslims they would be in Paradise in just a few minutes.

"Hasam, don't do it." A feminine voice spoke in English with a soft American Southern accent.

Hasam jumped. The voice startled him. He was alone in the room with the door locked and barred. Behind him stood a beautiful young girl with dark brown hair, pale skin, and bright red lips. She wore a bright white dress and seemed to have a glow about her. There was something vaguely familiar about her.

"Hasam, if you do this you'll start down a dark path that you can never return from. You'll never be able to undo this terrible thing It's not too late to turn back."

Hasam pulled the Glock out of his shoulder holster. His hand was trembling. He'd never actually killed anyone before but he must fullfill his mission. He had no idea who this woman was. She must be a CIA agent sent to stop him. He fired one shot. There was a small flicker as the bullet passed through the girl's heart and buried itself into the wall hehind her but she didn't even flinch. What trickery was this! A hologram?

"Hasam, they lied to you. You can't reach Heaven by murdering people. All you will achieve is your own damnation. I know you're a good man. Deep down inside you know this."

"Who are you?" he shrieked.

"I'm your friend. I'll be your friend forever."

"If I don't do this they'll kill me!"

"There's worse things than death. You know this."

Hasam began punching numbers into the phone. After all, couldn't Satan disguise himself as an angel of light? "Demoness! You won't trick me! Allah Akbar!"

The blast blew out the window behind him spraying him with shattered glass. He lay facedown on the floor. He could taste blood in his mouth and his ears were ringing. He raised his hand and felt a cut in his forehead. His hand came away covered with blood. From outside he could hear a loud howl as if the entire city was crying out in anguish. He rose to his knees and looked around. There was no sign of the girl. Aside from the small bullet hole in the wall there was no indication she was ever there. Hasam looked out the window. The embassy was still standing. He didn't destroy it. But the streets outside were devestated. There were bodies everywhere.

Hasam stumbled to the door. It was still locked and barred from the inside. The girl couldn't have come in this way. Did he just imagine her? Was she a demon sent to stop him from performing his duty? He trotted down the hall to the elevator. He had done his duty. There must be hundreds dead. Most of them were Kenyans but he hoped some were Americans. As for the Kenyans, they shouldn't have allowed the Americans to have an embassy in their city in the first place.

When he came out the delivery door of the hotel he saw Ali and Mohammed waiting for him in their car. Ali grinned at him. "You could have at least given us a few more minutes! That was a close one! Get in!"

Instead Hasam got on the motorbike they had parked nearby with the keys in it hoping it would be stolen. "I'm going back. I've got to see it."

"Are you crazy!" Mohammed shouted at him, "The place is crawling with soldiers and police! You'll be caught!"

Hasam started the motorbike. "I won't be caught. I'll meet you at the safehouse." Without another word he took off for the embassy.

From blocks away he could see debris and shattered windows. The air was filled with the sounds of sirens, screaming and sobbing. When he got closer he could see bodies, shattered burning automobiles, and collapsed buildings. The smoke and dust in the air choked him. He could see the embassy, it was still standing with only minor damage. He got off the motorbike and stood alone amidst the horror. So much death and still he failed his mission.

Hasam turned to leave when he stopped in his tracks. Sitting against a broken wall was a pretty young black African woman in her late teens or early twenties wearing a red dress with white polka dots. Through some fluke her body looked completely untouched by the explosion except for a coating of dust and the fact that the top of her head was sheared off less than an inch above her eyebrows. Bloody grey brains were leaking out as she stared at Hasam with empty brown eyes glazed with death.

Hasam was struck with nausia and horror, he leaned over and threw up on the street. His stomach kept heaving until it was empty. He couldn't take it anymore. This was all so wrong. He had been looking forward to returning in triumph, perhaps even being personally congratulated by Sheik Osama himself. But this was just cold blooded slaughter. He had to leave now while he still had his sanity. He stumbled back to the motorbike and took off.

He made it back to the safehouse easily enough carefully checking to see if he'd been followed. Ali and Mohammed were sitting in the small living room watching the news on TV. "We didn't destroy the embassy, it's still standing." He blurted out.

"We know," Mohammed answered. "But it doesn't matter that much. We attacked the Americans. This should cause a war for sure!"

Hasam stood against the wall behind them and shut his eyes. He didn't want them to see the tears, the shivering, to think he was weak. When the knock came at the door he jumped. His shaking hand pulled out the Glock.

"Put that away you idiot!" Ali whispered. "It's just the pizza we ordered."

"Pizza? Why did you order pizza?" Hasam asked frustrated. They were supposed to be laying low."

"Because this safehouse doesn't have any food and we're hungry! That's why. Since you weren't here we agreed you'd pay for it." Ali grinned as he and Mohammed slipped into a bedroom. Three middle eastern men together after a bombing like that might attract too much attention.

Hasam waited until they shut the door before he went to the front door and opened it. The pizza delivery girl was a pretty young black woman in a red dress with white polka dots. The top of her head was sheared off and was leaking bloody grey brains. She held the box out to him as the room began to spin and he collapsed.


End file.
